


Advanced Scrabble

by 4wholecats



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Ghosts, Others Mentioned - Freeform, modau only really applies to tatiana, zeke is literally the same
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-17 23:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14841594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4wholecats/pseuds/4wholecats
Summary: She does kind of feel like she’s calling a puppy sometimes, because whenever she calls his name the room immediately gets about five degrees colder, and suddenly, he’s there, attentively listening to what she has to say. The way he carries himself reminds Tatiana of a soldier, but there haven’t been any battles around here for thousands of years, probably. Old housemate indeed.Aka Tatiana lands a hot date with a 2000 year old man who is buried under her house.





	Advanced Scrabble

There’s a man in her kitchen.

 

There’s a man in her kitchen and Tatiana doesn’t know what to do, because she lives alone, and her phone is on top of the stove, far out of reach. Maybe she could make a break for the door? If she’s quiet enough, he might not hear her. She could get help…

 

The man is gone. She blinks, and the large shadowy form in the next room is gone, as if it was never there in the first place. Tatiana pokes her head further out from behind the couch, searching for the missing invader. She’s looking through the only door into the kitchen; where could he have gone? Surely he would have made more noise if he crawled out of one of the windows, and he couldn’t be that fast.

 

She gets up on shaky legs and creeps over to the door frame, gripping a well-worn baseball bat tightly in her sweaty hands. The kitchen looks exactly as it did when she left it last. Her dishes in the sink, her phone on the stove, and her windows closed. No mysterious man is sight.

 

Tatiana sleeps with all her blankets on that night, and makes sure to lock every window and door in the house. The stress of moving was probably still making her nervous, and she was tired as well. There was no man in her house. Hopefully.

 

Her self-reassurances go out the window just a few days later when she sees the man again in her living room. She can just make out his the top of his head from where she is crouching against the wall on the second floor landing. He’s not really doing anything, just looking around. His mannerisms reminds her of someone at a museum, glancing over the exhibits with a look of mild interest. She quietly gets back to her feet, creeping further into the hallway where it would be safer for her to call the police when beneath her feet, a board creaks.

 

Tatiana sucks in a breath as the man downstairs turns around, looking towards the top of the stairs, towards her, and then…

 

He’s gone. There is no man in her living room. None at all. She runs to the bathroom and dials 911, and when the police arrive she continues quaking in fear as they comb the house. They don’t find anyone, and Tatiana books a motel room for the night.

 

When she returns the following afternoon, she’s ready. She’s got her phone, a small pocket knife, and a bottle of pepper spray in her dress pocket. Tatiana is getting this man out of her house. She puts the knife under her pillow when she goes to sleep, ready to slash anyone that DARES enter her room. She doesn’t end up needing it, because she doesn’t see the man that night, or the day after that.

 

She doesn’t see him for two whole terrifying weeks. But then one night the hair on the back of her neck stands up while she’s making dinner and she glances over her shoulder into the living room, and he’s just. There. In front of her bookshelf, tilting his head a little, as if he were reading the titles.

 

Tatiana’s ready this time. She’s got a plan. She’ll distract him, then she’ll make a break for the door, and as she’s running she’ll call the police again. She grips a cheesegrater in one hand and the knife in the other as she creeps into the other room, sock-covered feet silent against the tile floor.

 

The man is big, easily over six feet tall. If he caught her while she was running that would be the end of it; she wouldn’t be able to get away and they would never find the body. His back is still turned, and she slowly raises the cheesegrater, prepared to throw.

 

She squeaks with effort and fear as the sharp cooking tool sails across the room. The man whirls around, instinctually bringing a hand in front of his face to block the sharp object. Tatiana closes her eyes for just a second, just so that she doesn’t have to see the man get gored, but as she opens them and  turns toward her exit, she watches the cheesegrater clatter to the floor of her empty, untouched living room. She stops in her tracks, eyes wide, kitchen knife brandished, staring at the spot where the man was _just a second ago_. She takes one short, stifled breath, and then decides that she has had enough.

 

“I SAW YOU! YOU BETTER COME OUT RIGHT. FUCKING. NOW.” She yells into the apparently-not-empty house. She’s quaking in her boots, weapon held out in front of her as she backs up towards the front door. The house is quiet, as if it’s holding its breath.

 

“I SAID COME OUT!” She yells louder this time, so loud that her voice cracks a little bit. There is still no movement, and for a moment Tatiana doubts herself. Could this all be one tired muddled hallucination? She had just moved out from her parents house and she was scared of being alone; was her mind playing tricks on her?

 

But then, just as quickly as he had disappeared, the man was back, right where he had been standing before. He was here, and very real, and now that Tatiana was getting a proper look at him, very weird looking. His clothes were like nothing Tatiana had ever seen, even at a thrift store, all black and decorated with gold. He has what looked like armor on his legs, and a very real looking sword at his side.

 

He just stands there, hands raised in a motion of surrender, as Tatiana continues to back away slowly with her knife raised.

 

“Who are you. Why are you in my house.” The man doesn’t answer, standing there silently with a confused and skittish look on his face. Tatiana could almost say he looked a little scared, but he was in HER house, so if anyone had the right to be scared, it was her.

 

“Answer me!” She yells, shaking the knife out in front of her a little bit. The man lowers his hands a little but doesn’t speak; he just continues looking at her with the same baffled expression.

 

“How did you get in my house? How do you keep getting away so quickly? Why-”

 

Tatiana is interrupted by a sharp knock at the door. She takes the final step backwards towards the door and fumbles for the lock. When she finally flings it open, she finds one of the officers from the other week, one of the ones that searched her house, on the other side.

 

“Ma’am are you alright? One of your neighbors called in, said they heard you screaming bloody murder. Are you hurt?” He asks, wary of the kitchen knife in her hand. Tatiana opens her mouth to answer him, but looks over her shoulder first, back at the living room. Empty, of course.

 

“Officer, could you possibly give me a ride to the motel on 8th Street? I… think I just need a little time to myself, to clear my head… it was just a nightmare…”

 

Tatiana doesn’t get that much sleep that night. She wasn’t crazy. There was a man in her house, for sure. A large, scary, disappearing man. In the darkness of her motel room, Tatiana mulled over what he could possibly want from her. If he wanted to kill her, he would have had plenty of time to do so while she was sleeping. Maybe he was homeless, squatting in one of the parts of the old house she hadn’t had a chance to clean out yet. That wouldn’t explain the strange clothes and the impossibly quick escapes though.

 

Maybe the house was haunted. The thought made the logical part of Tatiana’s brain snort derisively, because the house was most certainly not haunted, and ghosts were not real. But the more she leaned into the idea, the more plausible it seemed to her tired mind. The house HAD been cheap, and the previous owners had seemed pretty desperate to get rid of it in the few times she met them… Perhaps she should pay her realtor a visit tomorrow, just to ask…

 

“Ah Tatiana! How is the new house treating you?” Maria was a nice lady, and a good realtor. It was a shame Tatiana had thoroughly convinced herself during the night that the woman had sold her a house that came with a guest.

 

“Hey Maria, the house is great! Can I just pretty please talk to you in your office alone for just a quick second?” Tatiana fiddles nervously with the zipper on her purse as Maria leads them away from the center of the office.

 

“What’s up? Is there a problem with the house?”

 

“I just wanted to ask, why did you sell me the house for so cheap?”

 

“Oh? Well… you see the house is very old, and it needs a little bit of work done in order to get it to its full potential, not to mention that the previous owners left it it quite a state-”

 

“Maria please, I gotta ask you an honest question here. Did you… Did you sell me a haunted house?”

 

“.....”

 

“Maria?”

 

“Haunted house? Come on now Tatiana, ghosts aren’t real… The house gets a little drafty sometimes so the wind can slam doors but saying it’s a GHOST is a little unrealistic-”

 

“Maria you’re sweating a little.”

 

“...”

 

“You sold me a ghost house didn’t you!”

 

“W-wait, why do you think there’s a ghost?”

 

“I keep seeing a man in my house but then when I blink or look away he disappears!” Tatiana whisper-hisses at the clearly uncomfortable realtor across the desk.

 

“Oh, well, at least now I know that the last couple wasn’t crazy… haha…”

 

“WHAT.”

 

“Well the last couple who lived in your house, they kept saying the same thing, that there was  a person in their house. A man in black clothing with a knife?”

 

“Sword, he had a sword.”

 

“He attacked you with a sword?”

 

“No, he was just… standing there, looking around I think. It was freaky though, I can’t believe you sold me a ghost house Maria! I thought we were friends!”

 

“There have never been reports of anyone DYING in the house, and the other couple said he never really bothered them, so I thought… it might be okay…”

 

“I DON’T WANT WEIRD MEN IN MY HOUSE. ESPECIALLY IF THEY ARE DEAD.”

 

“I’m sorry okay?!”

 

“How do I get him out???”

 

“I don’t know anything about ghost removal Tatiana! Maybe buy a Ouija board? Talk to a priest? I don’t know? To be honest I thought the previous owners were crazy! I didn’t think there would actually BE a ghost!”

 

“...Okay… yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry I yelled, I wouldn’t have believed anyone who said the house was haunted either… Where can I get a Ouija board?”

 

On the drive home, Tatiana stops at the toy store and picks up a Ouija board that is clearly ‘not real’ and ‘built for children’s parties’. It would have to do. She takes a deep breath before entering the house, poking her head in before going through the door. Everything is exactly as she left it, including the cheesegrater in the middle of the living room floor.

 

“Hello? A-are you there?” She calls out. Greeted with silence, she creeps further into the house.

 

“Look what I got!” She pulls the Ouija board out of the shopping bag and shakes it, like a dog owner shaking a bag of treats. The house still does not answer. Tatiana absently wonders if ghosts sleep. Maybe he won’t be awake when she tries to do her little seance. Now THAT would be embarrassing.

 

After she she eats breakfast, she clears the kitchen table and sets up the ouija board. It looks just a silly as it did back in the store, with it’s bubble letters and plastic pieces. She also lights some candles, just because that’s how they do it in the movies.

 

She closes her eyes, places her hands on the planchette, and takes a deep breath.

 

“Oh spirit of this house, please answer my call,” Nothing happens.

 

“Hello?” She cracks an eye open, looking around the room. No man in sight.

 

“Please, I just wanna talk?” Nothing.

 

“Come on! I’m not mad anymore! You just spooked me a little! Please I just wanna talk!”

 

And then she blinks, and the man is there, right in the doorway of her kitchen. She jumps slightly in surprise, and she can feel her heart beating hard in her chest.

 

He looks the same as he did last night. His clothes are dark and made of a heavy fabric, and he’s wearing armored boots on his legs. He’s got a cape too, she notices. Now that he’s closer, she can also see he looks like a total mess. His hair is all over the place and cut unevenly, and the fabric of his coat is ripped. There’s a particularly big slash in the front that she eyes warily. He’s got scars and scratches under the tears and all over his face.

 

“O-oh! Oh you’re really here! You’re real!” Tatiana whispers. The man politely half nods, and Tatiana can now see that his whole body is translucent, becoming nearly invisible in direct light as he walks into the bright room.

 

“I’m Tatiana, I live here now… What’s your name?” She asks as he stops on the other side of the table. He shakes his head.

 

“Can you talk?” He nods and mouths something.

 

“You can talk but I just can’t hear you?” He nods again.

 

“... Well then I guess it’s a good thing I get this then?” She holds up the ouija board. He considers it for a minute as Tatiana turns it around to face him.

 

“Just point to the letters you want,” she says, tossing the planchette back into the cardboard box it came in.

 

YES

 

“Okay! Okay now we’re in business. So, what’s your name?” The man hesitates for a second before moving a gloved hand back over to the board.

 

I DO NOT REMEMBER

 

“Don’t remember? How long have you… been here?”

 

A VERY LONG TIME

 

“Is this your house?”

 

 IT’S HARD TO TALK LIKE THIS. SLOW

 

Tatiana considers his words, thinking for a second before jumping up for a second. She pulls out a pen and paper from her bag, offering them to the ghost.

 

“Are you one of the ghosts that can move things? You can use this and just write what you want to say,” she says as he reaches for the pen. His fingers brush against hers, and a sudden cold washes over her body, as if she poured cold water over her hands.

 

He lifts the pen, with a look of extreme concentration on his face. Then it falls through his hand. Tatiana picks it up, offering it to him again. He nods in thanks and takes it, bringing it to the paper on the table. When he’s done writing, Tatiana turns the paper around to see what he has written.

 

Completely illegible. The ghost looks apologetic. There’s got to be a better way to do this.

 

“Wait right here! I have an idea!” Tatiana runs into the other room to the shelf where she keeps her games and pulls out a dusty scrabble box. She opens it up and grabs the bag of letter tiles, bringing them back into the kitchen and dumping them on the table, flipping some over until all the letters could be seen.

 

“Here! Try this!”

 

THIS IS BETTER

 

“Oh good! Like this you can write messages without me looking too. So wait, let’s start over; you don’t know your name?”

 

I DO NOT

 

“Is it because you’re… you know… or did you like, hit your head?”

 

I DO NOT KNOW I JUST DO NOT REMEMBER ANYTHING FROM WHN I WAS ALIVE OUT F LTTRS

 

“What? Oh out of letters, I’ll get more when I go out later. So you don’t remember anything? So you don’t remember anything from when you were alive? That’s gotta be really scary…” The ghost nodded slightly.

 

“So, then this isn’t your house?”

 

NO IT IS NOT

 

“Then… why are you haunting it?” The ghost shifted from one foot to the other, clearly very uncomfortable.

 

MY BODY IS BURIED UNDER YOUR HOUSE

 

“Oh. Thats…. Oh…” That, she probably should have expected.

 

“So then I guess it’s not like you can really leave… right?” The ghost shook his head, messing his hair up further. Tatiana took a step forward, causing the ghost to shuffle back a step.

 

“Well, you don’t seem awful, so I guess i’m okay with having a housemate… But we need some rules okay?” The ghost nodded.

 

“Rule number one: don’t go in my room. Or the bathroom. Don’t be creepy or I’ll, I don’t know, call a priest on you or something. Rule number two: don’t do that thing where you disappear in and out of rooms when I have guests. Okay?” The ghost nodded.

 

“I’ll get more letters, so if you wanna talk, just wave me over to the table okay?” The ghost nodded again.

 

This wouldn’t be so bad.

 

She doesn’t see him for a few days after that. He’s probably off going whatever ghosts do when they are busy; maybe meeting up with ghost friends. One morning, she finds a message on her table.

 

MAY I PLEASE READ THE BOOKS

 

She considers the message over her cup of coffee. When she had first met him, back when she threw a cheesegrater though his body, he had been considering her bookshelf. There was nothing she could lose by letting the man check them out. She looks up from the letters and, not seeing him anywhere, yells out into the empty house.

 

“YEAH, YOU CAN READ THE BOOKS. JUST MAKE SURE YOU PUT THEM BACK WHEN YOU’RE DONE.”

 

No response, but the message has been replaced by the time she returns to the kitchen to make dinner.

 

THANK YOU MISS TATIANA

 

At least he’s polite.

 

She hasn’t really been in the basement since moving in. Of course she saw it when she was considering buying the house, but she hasn’t cleaned it up yet. It’s dark and damp, with concrete walls and floors. The pipes are loud down here and there are cardboard boxes full of all kind of garbage everywhere.

 

She picks away at the pile slowly. Most of this stuff was left behind by previous owners, so a lot of it goes in the garbage. She keeps some of the books and trinkets, but the moth eaten clothes go in trash bags and the other stuff goes in boxes to be taken to the dump. Once she’s gotten the place cleaned out, she mops the floor and gets rid of all the bugs and cobwebs. By the end of the day, she’s exhausted, but at least she’s done.

 

She pauses as she is going up the stairs to look back down at the basement. She peers around and clears her throat.

 

“Hello? Are you there?” The ghost appears immediately at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her. She jumps a little bit, still not use to him popping in and out of rooms so suddenly.

 

“Can I ask you a… personal question?” The ghost nods, curious.

 

“You said you’re buried under here somewhere… would it be rude if I asked… where?”

 

The ghost just blinks at her, not expecting the question. For a moment Tatiana thinks she’s offended him, but then he walks to a far corner of the room and points to his feet.

 

“There?” She asks. He nods.

 

“You know it’s kinda funny. You told me you were buried here a few days ago but I never really thought about it until I came down here. Is this where you are when I don’t see you around the house?”

 

He nods again, crossing the room back to the bottom of the stairs, resting his arms on the banister.

 

“....You’ve been living in the garbage.” No response.

 

“You don’t have to stay down here if you don’t want to; you can use the guest bedroom when no one else needs it, if you like! Unless you want to stay here because of…” She looked pointedly at the corner where he had walked to before.

 

“Would you like to live upstairs? It’s gross down here…” She offers.

 

He considers her for a solid minute before nodding and following her up the stairs. He looks extremely out of place in the bright house, but Tatiana wouldn’t want to live in a dark basement for all of eternity if it was her.

 

She passes him almost every day on her way to the kitchen in the morning. He’s usually in the living room, leaning over one of her books, but he always looks up and waves to her when she passes him. It’s just like having a roommate. A roommate that doesn’t talk, or make a mess, and doesn’t any space whatsoever. The perfect kind. He was just missing one thing.

 

Tatiana’s boss was a large, imposing man. When talking about him, one could almost say he was sort of a ‘father figure type of man’ though she wouldn’t ever say it to his face. But one day, she let it slip that she has a houseguest and Mr. Rudolph was asking questions.

 

“A friend staying over for so long Ms. Tatiana? Just make sure he’s not taking advantage of your kindness.”

 

“O-oh he would never do that because he’s d- a… a dog. He’s my dog. Yeah I got a dog.”

 

“A dog! I love dogs, I’ve had a few in my time. What kind is he?”

 

“Uhh, I’m not sure, he’s a big black dog, probably a mutt?”

 

“Ha, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you picked up a church grim Ms. Tatiana! What’s his name?”

 

“O-oh, well, to be honest, I don’t- I haven’t really… picked one…” Mr. Rudolph leans back at his desk, eyebrows raised.

 

“Haven’t picked one? It sounds like you’ve had him for weeks!”

 

Tatiana laughs nervously.

 

“I’ve just been calling him ‘hey you’ for awhile… I haven’t really found a name that suits him yet…”

 

“Are you looking for suggestions?”

 

“S-sure I guess, Can’t hurt…”

 

“Hmmm, a big black dog, Needs a good, powerful name. Perhaps something like… Ezekiel? Or perhaps a sillier name, like Spoons if he’s not much of a guard dog.”

 

“I like Ezekiel sir, I’ll think about that one. T-thank you!”

 

“Not a problem Tatiana, I love dogs!”

 

When she gets home, he’s sitting at her kitchen table, head buried in his arms. She’s never caught him sleeping before; she didn’t even know he COULD sleep. Though since he was an immortal spirit, sleep must be a good way to pass the time. But she needs to talk to him, so she creeps up to his side. Would it be okay for her to shake him awake?

 

She hovers a hand over his shoulder. She would probably just go through him, right? Is that against ghost etiquette? Sticking your arm in someone else can’t be good manners, ghost or not. Maybe she could just tap his shoulder…

 

She touches him and the cold feeling immediately floods her body. He jumps awake, hand on the hilt of his sword,  startled by the sudden contact.

 

“Sorry! Sorry! Oh gosh I’m so sorry I was just trying to wake you up I’m sorry I scared you!” Tatiana squeaks, hands up as the man gets his bearings back. He also raises his hands and nods, smoothing his rumpled clothing and running a hand through his hair.

 

“I just wanted to ask, you don’t know your name right? Do you… want a new one?” He looks confused.

 

“I kinda let it slip to my boss that you were here, and I told him you were a dog and then he asked what your name was… I said you didn’t have one so he suggested one, and I was wondering if you would be open to it? It must suck, not having a name.” The man nods at that, listening.

 

“He suggested Ezekiel, which I think sounds pretty cool. You could be called Zeke as a nickname too! He also suggested Spoons, but that's just because he thinks you’re my dog. What do you think? Do you like Zeke?”

 

To her surprise, the man nods and even smiles very slightly.

 

“I’m glad you like it! Now when I need you I’ll call you that okay?”

 

He nods again and smiles more. She’s never seen him smile before. It makes him look a lot less scary. Handsome, even.

 

She does kind of feel like she’s calling a puppy sometimes, because whenever she calls his name the room immediately gets about five degrees colder, and suddenly, he’s there, attentively listening to what she has to say. The way he carries himself reminds Tatiana of a soldier, but there haven’t been any battles around here for thousands of years, probably. Old housemate indeed.

 

“Hey Zeke, what does it feel like when you walk through stuff?” She asks one night while she’s at the dinner table. He appears in the other chair, in front of the scrabble tiles.

STRANGE

 

“Does it feel super cold? Because whenever I’ve touched you, it’s like sticking my hand in ice water.”

 

SORRY

 

“No it’s fine! But what does it feel like for you?”

 

IT FEELS VERY WARM

 

“Huh, well I guess that makes sense, all things considered. If I ever accidently walk through you when you’re being invisible, sorry in advance.”

 

NO HARM DONE MISS TATIANA

 

“You don’t have to say miss before my name, Zeke. We’re friends now! Just call me Tatiana!”

 

OKAY TATIANA

 

“You know, when I first found out I was living with a ghost I was pretty mad about it. I even yelled at my realtor a little bit because I was scared, but you’re actually really cool. I’m glad I moved here!”

 

THANK YOU I ENJOY YOU BEING HERE AS WELL

 

“You know, if you weren’t at least a thousand years old and also dead, I probably would have asked you on a date by now- oh!” Zeke disappeared suddenly.

 

“Oh I’m sorry! It just slipped out!!”

 

She doesn’t see him for the rest of the night, or in the morning as she heads off to work.

 

Not everyone in Tatiana’s office is as nice as Mr. Rudolph. Jerome, for example, is a disgusting slouch of a man who keeps asking her on dates. One afternoon, on one of her days off, the doorbell rings. She looks through the peephole to see Jerome, as ugly as ever, on the other side.

 

“Go away Jerome, I have the day off.”

 

“Open the door, I need to talk to you!”

 

“About what?”

 

“You get to hear when you open the door!” He yells through the wood. Tatiana huffs, clearly not impressed, but not feeling endangered.

Jerome was a lanky beanpole of a man; even she could probably shove him out of her house if need be. Besides, the room just got colder; so Zeke was evidently watching her back. He’s been getting a lot more protective of her lately, but Tatiana couldn’t complain. Anything to help her get Jerome off her porch. She opened the door to let the slime in.

 

“What do you want Jerome,” The man gave her a lopsided, ugly smile. He smelled like shit. “Have you been drinking?”

 

“Maybe. Anyways, I came here to tell you that you’re coming with me on a date on Friday; I already made reservations, we can make a night out of it.”

 

“In your dreams, Jerome. Get off my porch and go home. You smell awful.” Tatiana began to close the door when Jerome’s hand stopped her. The man was evidently stronger than he looked.

 

“Not so fast, little lady. Like I said, I have reservations for two; it would be rude to say no at this point…”

 

“Jerome, leave.”

 

“Come on now, at least let me in, we can chat about work, life, whatever…”

 

“You’re making me uncomfortable, get off my property before I have to call someone to make you leave.”

 

“You? Make ME leave? You’ve got a lot of nerve- OOF!”

 

There was a thud as a heavy book falls to the floor after making contact with Jerome’s nose.

 

“Hey! Who else is here? Who’s fucking throwing shit at me?” Jerome hissed, holding his nose and craning his neck to see behind Tatiana. When his face pokes out enough, another book flys over Tatiana’s head, hitting him squarely between the eyes. He lets go of the door to cover his injury and Tatiana slams and locks it, ignoring the swearing and watching him stumble back to his car with his head in his hands.

 

“Thank you,” she breathes, and from across the room by the bookshelf, Zeke nods at her and puts away the rest of his ammunition.

 

“Listen”, she walks up to him, “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you the other night when I said that I would have asked you on a date. It’s just that you’re nicer than a lot of the other guys that I know… Like you just saw Jerome. That’s what I have to choose from; him and a lot of other guys like him.”

 

Zeke mouths ‘it’s okay’ but was still warily eyeing the door, clearly looking out for these so called “other options”.

 

“Hey, “ Tatiana says, and Zeke looks back down at her, expression softening, “Wanna watch a movie with me tonight? A few of the books I’ve seen you reading have movies that go along with them, I think you’d enjoy it!”

 

He nods and Tatiana beams.

 

_“Hey did you hear about old lady Tatiana? What a shame…”_

 

_“Oh don’t be like that, she lived a long life didn’t she? A kind soul like her deserves a good rest right?”_

 

_“I guess but it’s a little sad. She died in that house all alone, no family, no children…”_

 

_“Well if she’s decided to stick around a little longer, I can think of no kinder ghost to haunt this place, that’s for sure.”_

 

_Tatiana giggles a little bit behind one of her hands, knowing full well that the two men taking care of her affairs could not hear or see her._

 

_“Tatiana, are you harassing the moving men? I had no idea you were this immature,” Zeke says, also whispering from his place next to her. She elbows him and takes satisfaction in the fake hurt noise he makes. He sounds just like she always thought he would._

 

_“Who do you think is gonna live here now?”_

 

_“I do not know. I hope they are not afraid of ghosts though.”_

 

_“Yeah, I hope they have a puppy! I love puppies almost as much as I love you”_

 

_“I love you too, Tatiana.”_

 

_“Well that’s good, because it looks like it's you and me for the rest of forever!”_

 

_“I would not have it any other way.”_

**Author's Note:**

> do i have to make my one weeja or can i get onee from a witch or vegan
> 
> also how 'bout that alternate universe where tatiana calls him spoons instead of zeke
> 
> Also maria is an oc borrowed from pinkhydrangea, thanks for letting me steal your child for a scene


End file.
